


Snuff Films and Chill

by draculard



Category: The End Of The Fucking World (TV)
Genre: Animal Abuse, Animal Death, F/M, Flirting of a dubious moral nature, I mean look at the title here, Implied/Referenced Violence, Just some messed up kids doing some messed up things in their spare time, People Death as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:07:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21567340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard
Summary: "This is depressing," says James. His eyes are on the laptop; specifically, they're on the blurry video and the pool of blood growing beneath a dead man."I know," says Alyssa.She snuggles closer.
Relationships: Alyssa/James (The End of the Fucking World)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	Snuff Films and Chill

This is what bliss feels like, Alyssa thinks. Lying on her bed with a battered old laptop open before her, with James at her back, their feet tangled, his hair spilling over his forehead. His cheek is resting on his hand, his eyes on the screen, but when she looks at him, his gaze flicks to her and he gives her the tiniest smile.

And on the laptop, a real-life motorcycle gang executes a man, and the picture is a little pixelated but perfectly gruesome.

What could be better? Snuff films and cuddling -- it’s a match made in heaven.

“Where did you find this?” James asks when it’s over. His eyes are tracking the dark pool of blood beneath the dead man.

“Dark web,” says Alyssa. She moves the cursor lazily and clicks on another one, titled Sadistic Asshole Kills Puppy HD. James shifts behind her, rolling his shoulder to bring his sleeping arm back to life.

She leans back against him as ads flash over the screen and fade away. A blurry, unfocused image fills the screen of an American hillbilly. He holds a long, serrated knife in one hand and an unidentifiable animal in the other.

“Puppy or raccoon?” James asks her. His breath is warm against her hair.

“Gerbil,” Alyssa says. She jabs her finger against the volume key, turning it up just in time to hear the animal’s squeals. Her mouth tightens, but she doesn’t wince; James’s hand sneaks up to her waist, his touch so light it’s barely there. Maybe he’s just feeling the material of her sweater … but it’s nice.

“This is depressing,” James says. Onscreen, the unidentifiable animal sprays an unreasonable amount of blood right into the camera.

“I know,” says Alyssa.

“I love you,” says James, as if that’s a natural follow-up to “This is depressing.” Alyssa rolls her eyes and leans back against his chest.

“I know that, too,” she says. James hums; she can’t tell from his tone whether he’s pleased by her answer or hurt by her less-than-pleasant tone.

She clicks on another video.


End file.
